The son of the moon
by Madame-de-Sade
Summary: A little something about Spain/fem!Romano and Prussia/fem!Austria.


A little piece of writing about Spain/fem!Romano and Prussia/fem!Austria.

* * *

><p><strong>Son of the moon.<strong>

Day. Heat. You have problems with breathing, your chest rises and falls slowly. The air is saturated, saturated with odours. Lovina is sitting on the hill, under the tree. Arms cross, legs tuck under her chin. She can feel sweat between her clenched fingers and the forearm's skin. She stares at the sky with mistrust. The sky is clear from the heat, if you touch it, you will probably burn your fingers. But you can't touch the sky.

Sky is so far away.

"Hey, why are you so sad?" Antonio asks, but he is not expecting an answer. He sits next to Lovina. "Do you want me to sing you something?"

**O**

Night. Frost. You can breathe lightly. Lungs fill with cold. Cold is like needles in a delicate flesh. Sophie is sitting in front of the piano. Hands clasp, back straight. She feels cold on her back, which blows from the open window. She looks at the sky. The sky is dark and full of stars. If you touch them, you will burn your fingers. But you can't touch the sky.

Sky is so far away.

"Stand back." Gilbert says with a tone that you can't say no. Sophie gets up. Gilbert sits on her place. "I will play you something."

**O**

Antonio has a bright smile and shining eyes. His tanned skin, when you touch him is probably warm. Antonio is bright, shiny and warm.

Lovina doesn't trust him.

Antonio sings. His voice is strong, but you can't say if it is childish or masculine. Sweet. When he sings, he smiles. Because Antonio is like a sun, good and joyous.

But the song is terrible.

Lovina shudders and tightens her fingers on her forearm. She feels on her skin the rough crystals of a salt from the sweat. In the mouth, she feels metallic taste.

**O**

Gilbert is smiling his pearly white teeth are visible. His eyes are like blood. The skin is very pale, it seems to be cool, thin and without pulse. Gilbert is pearly, bloody and cold.

Sophie looks at him with superiority.

Gilbert plays. His movements are confident, fast and aggressive. A little boastful, like himself. His head is bowed, hair shine in the moonlight. Because Gilbert is like a moon, distressing and crazy.

But the melody is very sad.

Sophie looks at him and rises her eyebrow. Her glasses become heavy, so she improves them and swallows hard.

**O**

Lovina recognizes the songs' words. This is an old Spanish legend. She closes her eyes and sees.

The dark night and whispered prayer.

Gypsy woman wrings her hands, her bracelets jingle.

"Moon Lady, Moon Lady, Make him love me."

"I will make him your husband, but instead…instead you will give me your first child."

The price of love is a child ,a little man and love is great, great and cruel. Lady Moon is smiling, she is so high, so far, so clear. Will she love the child?

And the child is born. Gypsies have cinnamon skin, but the child is born with a skin as white as milk.

"You betray me!" Gypsy screams and the Gypsy woman swears that she was faithful to him.

Love is blind and deaf, the bigger the more lame. Blood is boiling, bubbling spasmodically.

One night Gypsy grabs a knife, it is as shiny as a Moon Lady's crescent.

Great, great love, so great that it kills. Gypsy woman's' bracelets call for the last time.

Love is blind and deaf, the bigger, the more lame though. Blood boiling, bubbling spasmodically.

Gypsy takes the child in his arms. The boy with silver hair and white skin is sleeping quietly and his breath is so light like he is not a child but a shine of Moon Lady.

Gypsy abandons the child in the forest. Wind wails. The boy doesn't cry, the crescent is his cradle.

Sophie recognizes the melody, this is Viennese Waltz. She closes her eyes and sees.

The ball starts in a dim castle.

Here is a magnificent court, ladies are spinning in adorned dresses.

Wine in glasses.

Laughter becomes coarse, hollow, mocking echo reflects.

Take and drink, this is my blood…

The boy with hair like a moon looks a little anxiously. He is not form here. If you are the king, where is your kingdom?

Whole castle is waving in a drunken waltz.

Here stands the altar.

Dancing couple deducts goblet, hosts scatter in, but nobody notices that.

They trample them.

The boy kneels, gathers the hosts and pull out his sword.

The blade is dancing with couples, blood splatters.

David, don't you become Cain?

My beloved pupil, you become the thirteenth.

Silver coins are round like the moon disk, issue the one who blasphemes, let all be fulfilled, when the fullness of time, the full moon.

Better for him to be not born.

You lose something, boy, when the cross changed into a sword.

Now you go among the bodies, your hands are bloody.

Now, you trample the hosts.

**O**

A smile hides cruelty.

Antonio has strong and broad hands. And the blood under nails.

"You are mine. I need you. You are my property. I am right. Let's enjoy life which is a dream. Let's play to the blood."

"Carmen", court theatre, "Life is a dream", flamenco, bull fighting.

The Spanish Inquisition, the Spanish blood, animal blood and murder, out of jealousy (because only I can save you).

Love like flame, like fire, like the heat of the sun and it can burn you.

Lovina rightly doesn't trust him. "I don't trust", it means "fear". You fear of yourself. You fear for him. You are afraid of him. Oh, Lovina, that your fear, your dignity, your sulky…

Give him a hand. Let him unclouded your face. Wrap a storm clouds around him and moist his lips with the rain.

Here, on the earth, we need the warm sun and cool clouds.

**O**

The cruelty hides despair.

Gilbert had delicate hands with long fingers. They are whole in blood and tremble slightly.

"I am lost. But I push on, I don't know how to live different. I don't need anyone. We fight, it is settled. We fight as long as tears befuddle our sight."

The Order of Brothers of the German House of Saint Mary in Jerusalem, crusades, conquests, wars, white coats.

Prussian blue, blue blood, blood of the pagans and murder out of jealousy (because you died also for them).

Love like covenant, like blade, like moonlight which possessed you.

Sophie rightly looks at him with superiority. "The superiority" means "fear". You fear for yourself. You fear for him. You are afraid of him. Oh, Sophie, that your fear, your dignity, your calm.

Give him a hand, let it shines in your darkness. Wrap it in a velvet night, use dew to wash his bloody hands.

Here on the earth, we need silver moon and dark night.

**O**

Do you have the courage to look one more time? Will you understand that you always see too little? Do you take a chance and trust? Do you allow him to wrap his hands around you, a little bit too tight? Do you ruin your peace and pick up your eyes from staves, which are straighter than any line of life?

Clouds and sun dance. Night and moon dance. Will you dance with them?

Don't be afraid and reach for the sky.

It is closer than you think.


End file.
